


Wednesday.

by owlberry



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dream Smp, Family Dynamics, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Philza POV, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Technoblade POV - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28203996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlberry/pseuds/owlberry
Summary: It’s a Wednesday morning when Ghostbur turns up on Philza’s doorstep.It’s a Wednesday morning when Techno discovers his house’s infestation.-december 16th but remixed. there is no war in ba sing se.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 247





	Wednesday.

**Author's Note:**

> was on some brainrot the other day and this came out. i just rly like the family dynamic okok
> 
> possible tw// for mentions of / implications of suicide. i don't believe it is any more upsetting than what is shown in the streams, but please be warned and take care of yourself.
> 
> disclaimer: this work is a fictitious in-universe telling of the story laid out on the dreamsmp. in no way is it meant to portray any of the creators named or otherwise, merely the characters they depict. thank you!
> 
> with all that done, please enjoy!

It’s a Wednesday morning when Ghostbur turns up on Philza’s doorstep.

Fog rolls heavy off the lake, blanketing the wooden bridges. As always, Ghostbur hovers just above it. There’s an empty smile on his face. Those blank gray eyes of his seem to stare right through Phil. Under his gaze, it’s hard not to shudder.

It’s hard to keep the _guilt_ from eating him.

But, as always, Phil puts on his signature friendly smile. Asks what Wilbur— _Ghostbur_ is doing here. No one has seen him around L’manberg in quite some time.

“ _Oh, I have an invitation for you_!” Ghostbur croons in his strange voice. It’s not entirely of their world. Like the words he’s speaking aren’t meant for living ears. “ _Tommy is having a party tomorrow!_ ”

Ghostbur holds out an envelope in his shaky gray hand. Looking too close at any part of him for too long gives Phil a headache. It’s hard to tell if he’s real or not. Physical or merely a ghastly visage. Hesitantly, Phil takes the paper from Ghostbur.

As his eyes trace over the neat lettering, he can’t help but scowl. “Will… It says the party was set for a week ago.”

“ _A week? Oh. Right, I got lost! I was wandering for a while. It started raining at one point too, that was really scary. But uh, Tommy wanted me to… And Dream said… So, I…_ ”

That’s what hurts the most about this new Wilbur. He’s bad at remembering. Not just things from his life—his _actual_ life—but also this new life. It doesn’t seem like… everything’s quite _there_ for him at times.

“Hey, it’s alright!” Phil tries. “You made it here in the end! I’m sure Tommy won’t mind if we… we swing round now. He might appreciate the company.”

“ _He definitely would! He was quite sad last I talked to him. Very lonely too._ ”

“Yeah…”

Truthfully, Phil hadn’t been to see his youngest son at all. Not because he doesn’t care, just… It’s difficult. It’s complicated. It’s…

Tommy needed time, he thought. After everything with the war, and Wilbur… Phil showing up out of the blue. And then… then killing his—his son. The brother Tommy adored and looked up to so much. Honestly, Phil didn’t think Tommy would _want_ to be around him for a while.

But, well… he wanted Phil to come to his party, right? He wanted to spend time with him. Or maybe just wanted to spend time with _anyone_. Maybe he was that desperate.

Yeah, Phil should probably go check on him…

-

After what feels like an eternity, they finally step out of the oppressive Nether heat, back out into the sunlight. Phil exhales as his feet hit grass. A breeze is wafting off the ocean. Clouds float above. Leaves rustle in the distance.

It’s quiet.

It’s really, really quiet.

Maybe that’s to be expected. This is exile, after all. There is only supposed to be one person here. But still, deep down, it feels wrong to Phil. After all, the one person in exile is very, _very_ loud. Even on his lonesome.

“Will…” Phil can’t help the shake to his voice. “Where’s Tommy?”

“ _He should be around here somewhere…_ _This is where I left him._ ” Even Ghostbur sounds unsure.

Phil steps away from the sputtering portal. He notices the cracks in the obsidian. The way it flickers—struggling to stay lit. Someone tried to destroy it. His heart pounds hard in his throat. He decides to ignore it. Tommy probably just had a… a tantrum. Or something…

Barely two feet from the portal, he stops short once more. He feels himself go cold. Ghostbur whisks up behind him, humming curiously. Even the usually bright ghost freezes at the sight.

“ _Logstedshire…_ ” Ghostbur whispers, voice broken.

Whatever was here before, Phil can’t tell. All that’s left is a crater. Cracked and splintered bits of wood are scattered between the rocks. Otherwise, there is no indication that anything—or _anyone_ —was ever here.

“Will—”

“ _He has a tent_.” Something in Ghostbur’s voice shifts. He sounds much less like his regular ditzy undead self. More like the son Phil once knew. Somehow, it isn’t comforting at all. If anything, it makes him all the more nauseous.

Phil follows Ghostbur as he rushes back up the path, past the portal. They walk for only a moment before Ghostbur stops short again. Down on the beach there’s a tent. But that’s not where Ghostbur is looking.

No, Ghostbur is staring directly in front of them. Into another crater.

“ _Phil_ …” Ghostbur whispers—sounding much like that shy, sensitive kid Phil remembers him being.

“He has to be here somewhere.” Phil insists, panic rising. He rushes back towards the bigger crater. Slowly, Ghostbur follows. “You know how he is. He probably just freaked out and decided to destroy everything. That’s just how—how he is—”

At the edge of the crater, something else catches Phil’s eye.

A tower.

It’s thin. Cobbled together with many different blocks. It reaches towards the heavens, seemingly aimlessly. Grasping far past the clouds, far above everything. No matter how hard he tries, Phil can’t think of a single, logical reason for it to be there. Except for one, at least.

Reality sinks in. Slowly, like a stone sinking to a bottom of the ocean. As it fully dawns on him, Phil feels himself being torn apart.

No. Not again. Not _again_. _Not another one of them—_

He doesn’t notice he’s kneeling on the ground until Wilbur huddles up beside him. Tears flow steadily down Phil’s cheeks. Wilbur grips onto his arm tightly. His pale, translucent eyes are locked on the sky—the tower. There is no naivety in him now.

It’s clear what’s happened.

Tommy’s gone.

-

It’s a Wednesday morning when Techno discovers his house’s infestation.

He’d been out of the house for the past few days. Gathering resources. Exploring the land. Adventuring. Preparing. The usual, really.

When he sees his house on the horizon, he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Every great quest must eventually come to an end. This one he’s more than ready to call finished. It’s time he gets back to his retirement.

He shoves his way into the bottom floor of his house, breathing a sigh of relief as warmth washes over him. The door swings shut behind. Carefully, he begins tapping the snow off his boots. He beats his cape against the wall and shards of ice clatter against the floor.

It takes a moment before his glasses begin to defog. He surveys his familiar, shadowy room. The grand paintings on the wall. The collection of chests. The dirty gremlin child digging through said chests. The trusty lantern still lit by the door—wait the _what_?

For a moment, Techno and the demon spawn only stare at each other. The child’s eyes are wide—almost like a cornered animal. There’s dirt smudged all over his face. Tiny cuts dot all long his pale skin. The armor he wears is chipped and crooked on his skinny shoulders.

Of course, the child has to get the first word in.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

“ _What_ are you doing in my house?” Techno demands.

“I could ask you the same question, buddy!”

“ _HEH_?”

Tommy stands up then—on seemingly shaky legs. Truthfully, he looks horrible. With dark bags under his eyes and obviously unruly hair. The bits of rumbled clothing sticking out between his armor appears tattered and ruined. He looks like even more of a twig than the last time Techno saw him.

Above all, there’s still that look in his eyes. He talks big and straightens his posture to lord the singular inch of height he has on Techno. But he looks terrified.

Something is wrong.

“I thought you were exiled.” Techno ventures.

“I am.” Tommy lifts his chin.

Techno stares at him for a moment. “Then why are you in my _house_?”

“Well, I’m not exiled from here, am I?”

“You’re not even supposed to know this place exists!”

Huffing loudly, Techno storms over to his chests. As he approaches, Tommy takes a step back. Practically presses himself against the wall, even. It’s not too weird. Tommy hates him, apparently. Still, Techno can’t shake the feeling that something about him is… off.

“What are you doing here?” Techno demands again as he begins unloading his gear.

Tommy tuts. “I could ask _you_ the same thing.”

“This is _my_ house!”

“ _Our_ house, actually!”

“Says _who_?”

“Says me!”

“Well, _I’m_ the one who built it!”

“Okay, and _I’m_ the one who lives here!”

Techno sighs again, pushing to his feet. Tommy is always difficult. He’s been difficult since the day he was _born_. But this is… a whole different level of difficult—of _deflection_.

“Tommy.” He mutters lowly, stepping in front of Tommy to corner him against the wall. “I am going to ask one more time. _Why are you here_?”

Tommy shrinks down, regaining his terrible posture. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking away. “Maybe I just want to be.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I do! You ruined everything! You blew up L’manberg, you pink pig bastard—”

Techno feels a headache already beginning to form. He reaches out, attempting to lay a hand on Tommy’s shoulder—just to make him _stop_. But, before he can touch the boy, Tommy flinches back. He presses himself against the wall. Something in his expression changes.

“Oh, right sorry.” Tommy rambles with a laugh. He begins tugging at the straps of his armor. “I forgot, I forgot, my bad—You know how I am.”

Somehow, Tommy manages to wiggle out of his chest plate. He tosses it onto the ground behind Techno. The boy pops the helmet off his head. Techno can’t help but grimace at the state of his hair. It’s hardly even blond anymore. The helmet hits the floor behind Techno as well.

“What… What are you doing?” Techno asks, this time quieter.

“My—” Tommy stops short, as if suddenly realizing what he’s doing. “You—Oh. Do you not want it?”

“Your—your crappy armor? Why would I want that?”

“Because…” Tommy’s eyes seem to grow distant. “I… I don’t know, actually. I don’t… don’t know why…”

All at once, the life seems to fade from Tommy. His legs give out under him. Techno barely manages to catch him before he faceplants onto the stone floor. As gently as possible, he lowers Tommy to the ground. Of course, the demon child tries to wriggle out of his grasp. He never was good at accepting help.

“Stop—Let me go you fucking bastard prick bitch—” Tommy bangs harmlessly against his chest.

“Will you just be quiet?” Techno snaps. “For once in your life will you just let me take care of you?”

And for the first time ever, Tommy actually listens.

-

“You’re a dumb stupid idiot bitch.” Tommy grumbles sleepily. “You ruin everything. I wish you were never born, you son of a prick.”

“We share a father.” Techno tells him lifelessly. “Don’t insult him.”

Despite his tireless tongue, Tommy is pliant. He leans heavily against the edge of the tub, soaking up the soap and steam. He doesn’t resist as Techno scrubs through his hair, trying to get the knots out. Only mutters curses to the warm air. Techno lets him.

If that makes him feel better, so be it.

Truthfully, Techno is willing to do a lot of things to make his little brother feel better…

-

It’s a Wednesday evening when Phil goes home.

Truthfully, he isn’t aware of how long the two of them stay there, kneeling at the edge of that crater. All he can feel is the emptiness growing inside of him. The overbearing knowledge that he has failed them. Both of them. They are both gone, and in the end, it is his fault.

Why couldn’t he be better? Why couldn’t he have saved them from themselves? _Why_?

It is only when the sun begins to beat oppressively down on them that Phil is overcome by the need to move. To leave. Get away from this.

He doesn’t want to go looking through the forest. He doesn’t want to think about what might be there. What he might find…

In that moment, all he wants is to see his son. His—his _last_ son. He can’t let Techno get hurt either. He has to be there for him, he has to—has to—

He has to try.

With some difficulty, Phil manages to push himself to his feet. As he goes, he disrupts the small pile of _blue_ Ghostbur was building around him. In the moment, he can’t care. Ghostbur doesn’t seem to either. He dutifully floats behind Phil as he moves away from the crater.

Hands shaking, Phil digs through his pockets. His fingers find cool metal. It feels like a lifeline. He pulls the compass from his pocket, holding it tight in front of him. The needle points in a confident red line. Phil does the only thing he can. He follows it.

Their journey passes in silence. Even though still detached, in his strange spirit way, Ghostbur seems dulled. Weighed down. He does not float gleefully around Phil like normal. Instead, he stays by his side. Quiet and thoughtful.

Soon, the trees fade behind them. The land stretches out in flat plains of snow. Stern mountains break the skyline. Apart from the occasional skittering rabbit, the world is quiet. It mourns.

Before long, there is a quiet house on the horizon. Smoke puffs quietly out of the chimney. Light filters out from the windows, staining the snow as the sun begins to dip. Phil can barely hold in a sob at the sight.

Plagued with heavy limbs, and a heavy heart, Phil drags himself up the stairs. He doesn’t bother knocking. Techno leaves the door unlocked for him anyways.

Warm air washes over him as he ducks inside. He holds the door open for Ghostbur, who whisks right past him. The man’s shoulder should bump his. It feels like nothing at all.

Crouched in front of the fire is Techno. He’s not in his normal regalia. Merely a warm sweater, with his hair pulled back. Instead of a sword he’s equipped with a spoon. The smell of cooking stew is thick and welcoming.

It hardly takes a glance before Techno is abandoning his cooking. In a flash, he’s standing before Phil. He places his hands on Phil’s shoulders, helping to keep him upright. Phil can’t help but lean into the touch.

“Phil, what’s wrong?” Techno rushes. “What happened? You—You—”

Phil helplessly bangs a hand against Techno’s chest. He can barely choke his words out. “He’s… Techno, it’s…”

“Are you okay?” Techno rushes, glancing back at Ghostbur, who is staring into the stew pot. “What happened to him? Is he hurt?”

“ _No_.” Ghostbur shakes his head. “ _Not him_.”

“Not…” Techno looks back at Phil in confusion.

“Your…” The tears are running down Phil’s face again. “It’s your br—brother.”

“You mean the useless ghost?” Techno glances back at Ghostbur. “I hate to break this to you, but he’s already dead. He can’t hurt anymore. Not physically, anyways.”

“Not _him_. It’s… Wilbur was supposed to invite everyone to go see him, but he—he got lost. I went to go check on him, but he’s not—Techno, it’s… He’s—”

“ _Tommy_?” Techno asks, as if in disbelief. “But—”

“ _There was a big, big tower_ ,” Ghostbur whispers to the fire. “ _I think Tommy built it. But it’s not like the normal ones. He… He wasn’t okay, Techno. Before I got lost. Something went wrong._ ”

“He’s… He’s dead, Techno.” Phil sobs. “I’m so sorry, but he’s—”

“Oh, something smells good, can I have some of—”

There’s a terrible squeaking noise as a lanky blond child slides down the ladder from Techno’s upper floor. Three pairs of eyes instantly land of him. Realizing he has quite an audience, the child stops short. His wide blue eyes blink cluelessly.

“Why’s Dad crying?” Tommy asks Techno, raising an eyebrow.

“ _Oh, Phil thinks you’re dead!_ ” Ghostbur provides, floating up behind Techno. “ _He’s really very upset about it_.”

“Well, I’ve got bad news for you, old man,” Techno grumbles. “Kid’s alive and just as annoying as he ever was.”

Even with Tommy right in front of him, and Techno confirming the sight, it takes Phil a moment to process it. Seeing that place the way it was, he was so sure. So convinced. Maybe he was expecting it. Thought it karma that another of his sons be taken away, after what he’d done.

Now, he is faced with all the proof that he was wrong. Because Tommy is here. Noticeably thinner and a little jumpy. But he is here.

He’s okay.

“No…” Phil whispers, voice cracking. “That isn’t bad news at all.”

He doesn’t hesitate to snatch Tommy into his arms then. The boy jumps at the sudden contact, but he doesn’t fight him. Doesn’t pull away or writhe or even grumble about it. In fact, for the first time in years, Tommy hugs him back. Holds onto Phil just like he used to when he was young.

As Tommy falls into Phil’s touch—taking a deep, shuddering breath—Phil vows it to himself.

He is never, _never_ letting him go.

Never again.

-

It’s a cold Wednesday night when Techno makes himself a promise.

The sun set long ago. Outside, the cold has taken over. Snow falls in heavy sheets, blanketing the horizon in white mist. The windows are doused in fog, the floorboards chilled.

Lazy fire light scatters against the walls. The crackling of tinder is a comforting rhythm in the otherwise quiet room. It calms something in Techno. The part of him that has had its hackled raised since he found his malnourished younger brother in his basement.

In front of the fire, Phil and Tommy snooze peacefully. They’re leaned heavily against each other. Tommy is already drooling on Phil’s shoulder. Phil’s quiet breaths ruffle Tommy’s hair with every exhale.

It’s almost an unfathomable juxtaposition to how they were mere hours before. Even Techno has trouble reconciling it in his mind. How could this have happened? How did he _let_ this happen?

Above him, Ghostbur is floating aimlessly through the air. His arms are filled with his blue. He picks up each piece individually, eyeing it thoughtfully. As if he can see something in it that Techno can’t. Maybe he can. Techno has never known how this ghost thing works anyways.

Perhaps feeling Techno’s gaze on him, Ghostbur glances down at him. Those strange pale eyes of his send a shiver down Techno’s spine. He’s so different now. Almost nothing like the brother Techno once had.

Ghostbur holds out a piece of blue for Techno.

Techno takes it gently.

He cradles it in his hands, staring down at it. A lump forms in his throat. He thinks of their conversations earlier. All the things Tommy told them. All his confessions.

Stupid child. Stupid _idiot demon child_.

Techno doesn’t have many regrets. But there is one he just can’t seem to shake. No matter how hard he tries, it keeps coming back to haunt him.

He wishes he taught Tommy how to ask for help.

If he had, maybe all this could have been avoided. Maybe Phil wouldn’t have… have to face that _hurt_. That terrible truth he was forced to believe.

Maybe Tommy wouldn’t have almost made it a reality.

Maybe Dream would’ve never gotten his slimy hands on the child in the first place.

Maybe everything would’ve just been… okay.

Techno clutches the blue harder. There’s no use in maybe’s and what if’s. It’s all just a waste of energy now. He just… he has to work harder. Be better for his family. Keep them all safe and happy and secure.

There, on that quiet Wednesday night, he makes a vow to himself. To the world, to the sky, to the fire, to the blue. He will keep his family safe. He will keep _Tommy_ safe. No matter what. No matter _who_ comes knocking at his doors, or storming through his artic. He will protect them.

Ghostbur comes floating by again. Techno holds up the blue. The ghost takes it back, giving him a small smile. There’s something in his blank eyes. Some glint of knowledge. As if he could hear all the things running through Techno’s head. And maybe he could. Maybe that’s the power of the blue.

Quietly, Techno pushes to his feet. He creaks open one of his chests, grabbing a blanket. Very carefully, he places it over Phil and Tommy. Neither of them stirs, not even an inch. Evidently, the day has caught up to them. Techno can’t help but smile to himself.

He reaches out, gently ruffling Tommy’s messy hair.

“Welcome home, Theseus.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for taking the time to read! i appreciate it a lot :]
> 
> huge thanks to [jay](https://twitter.com/AzuraJay/) and [caz!](https://twitter.com/caz_unknown/) , without them none of this would be possible <3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/aubeerry/)


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